


Light a Fire Against the Oncoming Night

by fiveclawedfics



Series: Livejournal refugees [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Dark, Enemies to Allies, Other, PTSD, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 05:56:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10691127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveclawedfics/pseuds/fiveclawedfics
Summary: One late night, the Tesseract materializes on Nick Fury's desk, followed by an ominous message from Loki: Asgard has fallen to Thanos. Earth is next. Three months later, the alien literally falls into Dallas traffic, heavily mutilated. As signs of the impending invasion mount, SHIELD rushes to recreate the Bifrost bridge and build an alliance that can defeat the Mad Titan.





	1. Prologue

Late nights were the norm for Nick Fury. Nick Fury, as far as he was concerned, was in the business of making sure the world kept turning. People liked living nice, boring lives. It was his job to take the trash out. There was always some mad scientist, some would-be terrorist, out to disturb the public peace. It wasn't enough to simply blow the assholes up. Learning the precarious nature of the real world would terrify Joe Average, so handling these issues required appropriate planning and a subtle touch. It meant long hours. Nick didn't mind, no matter how much his doctor bitched about "overwork" and "not enough sleep" and "too much stress." It kept his life interesting.  
  
Granted, a lot of those long hours were devoted to paperwork. Like now. Some band of Chinese superscientists had gone rogue, and the government was wringing its hands and refusing to talk. And all this on the Indian border, perfectly positioned to start a secret war. Idiots and assholes, the lot of them! Nick sighed and selected teams to deploy to the border.  
  
A small blue distortion appeared right about his desk and exploded. Goddammit, he was too busy for personal fuckery. Nick blinked the light out of his eyes and reached for the panic button.  
  
The Tesseract was on his desk.  
  
 _The Tesseract was on his desk._  
  
The air by his desk fizzled, and Loki appeared, dolled up in his Renaissance Faire wannabe coat and crouched on the ground. "Is this working? I'm improvising a bit." Nick slammed the panic button, shoved the Tesseract to the other end of the desk, and drew his gun. "I'll take that as a yes. Let me adjust the spell..." He vanished, just as SHIELD agents poured into the room.  
  
"Get that somewhere secure," Nick snapped, jerking his head at the Tesseract. One of the agents gingerly picked it up and backed out of the room, eying it like a bomb. Nick made a mental note to give her a bonus.  
  
"Better," Loki said, reappearing on his computer screen. "You'll need to preserve this message."   
  
Several agents instinctively raised their guns, and someone cursed. Nick waved them down. "He isn't here." He made a show of placing his gun on the desk and folded his arms. "Coming back for another asskicking?"  
  
Loki gave a thin-lipped smile. "If only. Asgard has fallen to Thanos. He rules an army larger than you can imagine, and he plans to burn the Nine Realms to the ground. Earth is next."  
  
"Is that so." As if Nick would believe a world out of Loki's mouth.  
  
Loki laughed humorlessly. "You don't understand the danger you face, do you. Listen: you defeated one Chitauri fleet, one that had barely established a beachhead. Thanos rules the entire race, and more besides. He views your victory as a challenge to his power."  
  
Certain details began to draw Nick's attention. From the way he crouched, Loki seemed to be hiding from something. His face was drawn, and suspicious stains darkened patches of his clothes. "You have a handful of years. Asgard has fallen, but the victory came dearly, and Thanos will need to regroup. The Tesseract's true power lies in its ability to warp space. Use it to build a new Bifrost and contact the other realms. You will need to form an alliance with them." Loki smiled, despair writ across his face. "An impossible feat, but the only hope we have. Thor and Heimdall will tell you more when they arrive. I need--" He broke off and looked up. "Ymir's icy blood!"  
  
A large, armored hand descended to wrap around Loki's head and jerked him into the air. The image on the screen tilted crazily--Loki screamed something, muffled by the hand--then shifted over to show a giant, purple man. The giant laughed as Loki swung his legs up in a kick and slammed an ornate sword through the alien's struggling body.  
  
The image blinked out.  
  
Son of a bitch. Nick was going to be here all night.


	2. The John Doe in Dallas

"You're one of the men in black, right?"

Robertson gave Dr. Tran a bland smile as the man inspected his ID. "You could say that."  
  
"Figured it was only a matter of time before a fella like you showed up to stare at the alien that fell out of the sky into Dallas. The staff won't stop gossiping about him." He frowned at Robertson. "Where did you find out about this? I've had to chase away reporters. Poor bastard doesn't need paparazzi sticking microphones in his face."  
  
"I've seen the police report of the incident, Doctor. How did you know the man was an alien? The report describes a human male."  
  
Dr. Tran sighed. "Do you know the extent of Hayalmerson's injuries?" His accent dragged the name out to an extra syllable. Scandinavian name, Robertson noted; the John Doe was likely an Asgardian.   
  
He shook his head. Dr. Tran went to a file cabinet, pulled open one of the drawers, and pulled out a file. Robertson reached for it, but the doctor jerked it just out of his reach. "Let me see that warrant, Agent."  
  
"Of course." Robertson handed him the paperwork, and the doctor flipped through the pages before fixing him with a steely look  
  
"You know, I have half a mind to deny you access anyway. Hayalmerson was tortured within an inch of his life, he doesn't need some messed-up spies poking at him. But then, I suppose SHIELD'" --Robertson could hear the disdain-- " is the only play with the resources he needs to get better and go home."  
  
"SHIELD was organized to handle extraterrestrial contact." And much more, but the doctor didn't need to know that. "We've helped aliens leave the planet before or--failing that--assimilate peacefully."  
  
"I thought that was SETI's job," Dr. Tran snarked. "I want a number to contact you. And if you decide to move Hayalmarson from this hospital, I'm expecting the full paperwork on my desk that day, and a phone number to reach him."

Robertson handed Dr. Tran a business card. "I'll put my subordinates to work on the papers, then. It'll take some time to set up the phone number, but if you'll give me your email--" Dr. Tran dug through his pockets with his free hand and extracted his own card. After a moment, he passed the file over, too. "Thanks. You care a great deal for your patients, doctor."  
  
Dr. Tran gave a dry chuckle. "A couple of the other doctors said that I've gotten too involved. Way I see it, Hayalmerson is on the other side of the galaxy from home, fresh from some hellish ordeal. There's no one to care but us. Me." He sighed. "There's only so much I can do for him. Drugs don't work, blood work is impossible, anesthesia is useless--" Dr. Tran groaned and dragged a hand through his hair. "You know how I knew he was an alien? When he _grew his tongue back_."  
  
Robertson paged through Hjalmerson, Agni's file. He'd seen terrible things during his career, but its contents still turned his stomach. Large patches of skin flayed away, burn marks on the remnants. Tendons severed in the knees, ankles, feet, hands, wrists, and elbows. Nose, tongue, teeth, and genitals removed, with signs of forced penetration by sharp objects in the anal cavity. Two devices located--Robertson reread the last section. Then, in his calmest voice, he asked, "What did you do with the devices you removed from Hjalmerson's insides?"  
  
"The police blew them up way outside of town. Hayalmerson grew back his tongue before we operated, but he only started regenerating properly afterward." Dr. Tran grimaced. "He gave us instructions for their removal. Before and _during_ the surgery." At the look on Robertson's face he repeated, "Anesthesia doesn't work. And...he insisted. Wanted to guide the surgeons through the operation. I never want to do anything like that again." He shook his head, as if to shake away the memories. "A human could not survive those injuries, agent."  
  
Robertson closed the file. "I think it's time you introduce me to Hjalmerson."

* * *

 

The man propped up on the hospital bed was a skeletal wreck. His hair had been hacked off, leaving a black stubble, with a hole serving as his nose. The skin on his face seemed stretched across his skull, giving him a gaunt, hollowed-out appearance. Despite the patient's immunity to human medicine, the hospital had still connected him to several machines; Robertson recognized a catheter and an IV feed. And yet when Robertson and Dr. Tran entered the room, Hjalmerson's gaze flicked over to them, intelligence in his green eyes.  
  
"Agni," Dr Tran said, moving quickly to his patient's side and putting a hand on his shoulder, "This is Agent Robertson. He works with SHIELD. It's an organization that handles alien matters."   
  
Hjalmerson craned his head around Dr. Tran to look at Robertson. Robertson began to reach out for a handshake, remembered the nature of the man's injuries, and settled for a friendly smile and a wave. "I'm Andrew Robertson. I'm here to help you."  
  
The alien stared at him. His mouth opened slightly, then closed to a tight line, his face hardening into...determination? Something felt _off_ about the man's reaction, but there was no need to go to high alert. With a grunt of effort, Hjalmerson twisted his torso to face Robertson and lifted his arms upward. Apparently recognizing something, Dr. Tran gently took hold of his patient's wrists and leaned in to ask a quiet question. He seemed surprised by the response, but propped Hjalmerson's arms up against the bed rail, wrists together, as if to request a favor. Beside a few missing patches, Hjalmerson's skin appeared to have grown back, but his hands dangled awkwardly from his wrist. Impaired motor control, Robertson noted. His hands were missing joints as well--a detail that Robertson had missed in the file.   
  
"I surrender to SHIELD and request an audience with Lord Fury. I bring intelligence concerning our mutual enemy, Thanos."  
  
Robertson's hand went to his gun.  
  
"Whoa, hold up a sec," Dr. Tran broke in. "You don't need to--"  
  
"That man is a war criminal responsible for the death of thousands, Dr. Tran," Robertson interrupted. It was an effort to keep his voice calm. "Loki Odinson instigated the Battle of New York in an attempt to take over the world."   
  
"Bullshit!" Dr. Tran exploded. He took a defensive position in front of his patient. "I think you'd better leave, agent."  
  
"He's telling the truth, doctor. I apologize for lying about my identity." Dr. Tran twisted around to stare in shock. Loki leaned forward to look around his doctor. "Do you want to shoot me, agent? It is the least I can do."  
  
Robertson did nearly blow the bastard's head off there and then. But a little voice in the back of his head screamed at him to hold off. Everything was _wrong_ about Loki. The mangled creature in the hospital bed bore no resemblance to the smug alien prince sweating hubris and drowning in his own delusions of grandeur. Robertson realized suddenly that Loki's offer was genuine. Some sort of concept of honor? No, that couldn't be it. Loki was--was trying to _buy favor_ with him.  
  
Robertson took his hand off of his gun. "Doctor, would you mind leaving the room? I'm going to need to talk to Mr. Odinson in private."  
  
Dr. Tran hesitated, then shook his head. "Even if what you say is true--" His eyes darted back to look at Loki, and his jaw tightened. "--I don't think leaving you two alone is a good idea." And then, sharply, "He's still my patient."  
  
Loki nudged at Dr. Tran with a ruined hand. "Doctor, please. I've been waiting for SHIELD to find me. I would like to speak to Agent Robertson alone as well."  
  
Dr. Tran's hands curled into fists. He scowled at the two of them, then walked to the door. "I'm coming back in twenty minutes," he warned.  
  
"That should be more than--" The door's slam cut Robertson off. He turned back to Loki. "You know you're going straight back to Asgard," he tested.  
  
Loki gave a horrible, humorless smile. "There isn't an Asgard anymore. Didn't you get my message?"  
  
He had, actually. Every agent with the proper clearance had seen the video and read a description of the incident. Three uneventful months had passed since then, undoubtedly causing certain analysts to tear their hair out in frustration.  
  
Robertson moved closer, enjoying the opportunity to loom over the alien. "You have a history, Loki. And a reputation. Why should we believe you? Thor hasn't appeared since you sent your message. I suspect he wouldn't be pleased to see you."  
  
Loki's face crumpled. "Thor is dead," he said after a moment.  
  
Robertson's world dropped out from under him. It could all be a trick, but then Loki's mutilations were all too real. "You're lying."  
  
"I saw his head," Loki snarled. "The Chitauri took me to the ramparts and showed me the--the mutilated bodies of my family hung up on pikes for the world to see." Robertson opened his mouth to ask about that strange tidbit, but Loki barreled onwards, as if a floodgate had been unleashed. "The capital is ashes and the palace lies in ruins, decorated with the guts of its residents. They took me up to the ramparts to show me my home and then they took me to the dungeons and implanted--" He sucked his breath in with a sharp sound. "--Mortals lack the talent. You can't imagine--" The muscles in Loki's arms twitched grotesquely in some aborted gesture. "They left me a trickle of seidr to--to endure. To survive their torments." Loki's lips quirked up in that same horrible grin. "The Chitauri do not appreciate failures."  
  
"You were their master," Robertson breathed.  
  
"I was their servant," Loki corrected. "The Chitauri's leader told me that I would pay in pain if I failed to deliver the Tesseract, and he kept his promise."  
  
"Their servant," Robertson repeated thoughtfully. If--and that was a giant if--Loki was telling the truth, it could potentially transform SHIELD's understanding of the Battle of New York. Granted, that wasn't saying much; a disturbing amount of the after-action analysis was based on conjecture. Not an immediate concern, though. "You're slipping up. You didn't mention anything about the Chitauri before."  
  
"Thanos rules the Chitauri," Loki hissed. "As I said, his armies are vast. The Chitauri-- _all_ of the Chitauri, not one battleship--are only one regiment, comparatively. Thanos forged a bridge to Asgard and besieged the realm. We were at war these last five years. Did you think anything less would keep Thor from this planet?"  
  
The explosion seemed to take the last of his energy. Loki slumped back against his pillows and closed his eyes. He looked asleep, but for the tightness at his jaw.  
  
Robertson folded his hands together and waited. There was more to the story for sure. How much of it he could believe was something else altogether. Clearly Loki had met some terrible enemy--and one that could reduce a demigod to this ruined mess was no laughing matter. But why flee to Earth? Normally Robertson would assume that he had fled to Earth by mistake. His arrival lent support to that theory; Loki had appeared in mid-air and fallen into Dallas traffic.  
  
On the other hand, there was the Tesseract and the message that accompanied it. Why would _Loki_ send the Tesseract to his worst enemies? There was the possibility that someone else had sent the Tesseract and Loki had planned to follow it to Earth. But then why would he warn SHIELD ahead of time? And who had sent the Tesseract?  
  
The worst part was Asgard's silence. Thor had assured SHIELD before his departure that any of Loki's attempts to escape would be quickly detected and stopped. Asgard should have sent someone to bring Loki back by now.

"This shouldn't have happened," Loki said. "I was to send the Tesseract and cause a distraction while Thor and Heimdall destroyed Thanos's bridge and the Bifrost, escaping on the remnants. They were supposed to live, I was supposed to die. Simple." He sighed.  
  
"Did they succeed?"  
  
"Of course. Otherwise Thanos would have begun his invasion. There is a fleet en route to Earth in Midgard space, but Thanos and the rest of command is stranded upon Asgard until he can recreate the technology to make a bridge. That should take some time. The fleet will arrive first. I wish I knew when." Those green eyes flicked to Robertson. "You don't believe me, do you."  
  
"You aren't the most reliable source," Robertson said in the blandest of tones. "More agents will come soon to bring you into custody. We'll discuss your story then."  
  
Loki made a choking laugh. "I cannot fault your reason. But there is no deception in my story. I have no reason to lie." He went quiet for a few moments. "Agent Robertson--you are a soldier for SHIELD. Do you represent Lord Fury in these circumstances?"  
  
The question caught Robertson off guard. "Yes, I suppose."  
  
"Mm." Loki lurched to the bed rail and began struggling with his arms. Grasping his intention, Robertson took hold of his right wrist and placed it over his heart. The contact made his skin crawl, but he was more interested in what Loki intended.  
  
"I, Loki, son of Odin, son of Bor, of Asgard, swear my life and my service to King Nicholas Fury, of the kingdom of SHIELD, of the planet Earth, of Midgard. I offer my sword, my seidr, and my intellect to his service, obedient to every command. In return King Fury will grant refuge to myself and to my people, conditional on their finding, and grant me the right of vengeance against our enemy. This I swear on the World Tree Yggdrasil, on the unknowable Norns, who spin our fate, and the blood of my fallen family. Should I break this oath, let the Valkyries bar me from Valhalla, and let the Disir feed upon my body and soul."  
  
Loki stared at Robertson expectantly. Robertson stared right back. Then he pulled out his phone and dialed a very special number.  
  
"Code 8-1-4. But I think we can deal with him."  
  
Fury grunted. "Alright, bring him in."


	3. Contract

As soon as Nick set foot into the infirmary/prison cell, Loki sat up and turned to look at him. "My lord." And he bowed awkwardly. Christ in Heaven.   
  
Nick had to admit, it felt good to see the bastard who had the nerve to blow up New York on his watch reduced to this state. But mostly, it raised his hackles. The Tesseract falling right back into his hands, with a fucked-up Loki following as a sweetener. It was too good to be true!   
  
It was also too dangerous to ignore. Intelligence on Asgard was frustratingly slim, but Nick knew enough to label the country--dimension? planet?--as a massive threat. Earth was damn lucky that Asgard had chosen to ignore it for the most part. Something that could mutilate an Asgardian? Bad. Something that could steal the Tesseract? BAD. Something that could silence Asgard? Bad, bad, bad.  
  
He curled his hands around the bed railing and leaned in close. "I have every reason to distrust you."  
  
"As you say, my lord," Loki nodded. "But I sent you the Tesseract. Surely my lord considers the artifact valuable." His eyes flicked over Nick, calculating some unknown value. "I understand SHIELD spent decades trying to chain its energies, but made little progress. I am no Heimdall, but I am a master seidrmadr--a scientist, you would say--and I know well the warping of time-space. With my help--"  
  
"If you think that I'm going to let you any where near the Tesseract, you're a damn fool," Nick snapped.  
  
Loki smiled humorlessly. "Of course not. You are a general, and I am a known threat. My lord, I know _exactly_ how I appear in your eyes. I swore my oath for a reason. I can think of no other way to demonstrate my loyalty to your cause, given my current condition." He bowed his head. "Give me a chance to serve, my lord. I will train your scientists and fight your battles. Anything you command, my lord."  
  
 _Look at this submissive asshole. Rolling over and showing his belly._ Nick's fingers tightened on the rail. "I'm a spymaster, not a general, Loki. And in my experience, promises ain't worth the paper they're written on."  
  
Loki's eyes dragged up to fix on Nick's face for the first time since he had entered the room. "If you will not believe in my words, my lord, then believe in my vengeance." The words came out in a hiss, a baleful light burning in his eyes.  
  
Nick held his gaze for a moment, stone-faced. Then he released the rail and stepped back, folding his arms. "We got a saying here on Earth: Actions speak louder than words. Why don't you start by telling me what happened." As Loki opened his mouth, Nick held up his hand. "And let me be clear here: you've got a hell of a ways to go before I begin to trust you. I expect full cooperation from here on out, no complaints. Understand?"  
  
Loki nodded. "As my lord commands."

"Physicians will run a full physical examination in order to determine your capabilities. You'll go through a battery of mental tests as well. Standard operating procedure for new agents," Fury began. Actually, he intended to include a few tests that went beyond the standard physical and mental evaluation. Asgardian biology and psychology mostly remained a mystery, and he wasn't going to miss an opportunity to gather more data. "I've got a team of doctors on stand-by ready to assist in your recovery."

"That will not be necessary, my lord," Loki said, a touch of smugness in his voice. "I doubt your doctors are equipped to deal with Asgardian biology. My magic will handle the regenerative process."

"About that," Fury said, putting an extra edge of iron in his words, "That's going to have to stop."

"Excuse me?"

"SHIELD understands that you're relying on your magic to fix your body. We won't interfere with that process. But when you've fully recovered, we plan to block your magic. And you're going to be responsible for that task."

For the first time, Loki looked shaken. "Bind my magic? My lord..."

Nick caught his eye. "It is possible, isn't it?" When Loki tried to look away, Nick moved in until he leaned over the alien. " _Isn't it_?"

"I would need tools..." Loki muttered.

"You'll have them."

"You don't understand." A pleading note slid into his voice. "Magic is--it is the sweetness of life to a seidrmadr. You don't know--"

"You're right. I don't know. But you are unstable and traumatized with a history of mass-murder. I wouldn't let a man with your profile near a butter knife, much less _magic_." Loki remained silent. "A few minutes ago you swore to obey any command I gave you. Are you breaking that oath already, Loki?:

Loki crumpled into the bedding. "As my lord commands," he said in a low voice. "I will draw up plans when my hands recover."

"Excellent." Nick drew back, looked down on the miserable figure in the bed, and decided to relent a little. "I'm willing to discuss this issue again in the future. But it all depends on your behavior. Prove to me that I can trust you, and the bindings come off."

"Thank you, my lord." Loki muttered, still miserable. Well, it was the best carrot he could offer under the circumstances.

Nick pulled up a chair from the other side of the room and took out a recorder. "Now. I think it's time you tell me everything you saw in Asgard." As Loki sat up, he held up a finger. "One more thing: it's 'sir,' not 'my lord.' We don't do that feudal bullshit here,"

Loki nodded, his eyes fixed on Nick. "As you say, sir."


	4. Meet and Greet

"You do know that you're nuts," Darcy said as the checkpoint guard examined their passes. "You are signing up for a project guaranteed to end in alien invasion. _Guaranteed_. You should get a certification of madness and hang it on the wall."  
  
"You're nuts, too, by that standard," Jane snarked back. After years of friendship, the banter came automatically. When she had asked to bring Darcy on board, Agent Robertson had told her that she was already cleared for hiring. SHIELD had apparently assumed that Jane would not come without Darcy. It was a reasonably assumption. Certain events formed permanent connections; handling a goofy demigod from another dimension was one of them.   
  
"I never said that I wasn't. Anyway, I'm naturally impetuous. It's part of my winsome charm. You're supposed to be the responsible one," Darcy grinned as the guard waved them through.  
  
"I seem to recall you describing me as 'an obsessive mad scientist chick straight out of Eureka' to your friends on the phone. Pretty certain that makes you the responsible one in this relationship."  
  
"C'mon, Jane, I was like twelve when I made that call," Darcy pouted.   
  
Jane had to give that one. Darcy had made that phone call during the first few weeks of her internship, back when she was still a kid meandering through a poly sci degree and looking for an easy science credit. Thor had changed her, much as he had Jane. She had finished her degree with a specialization in international relations and a minor in astrophysics, then moved to the DC area to work for a think tank.

Things hadn't gone quite so well for Jane, though. SHIELD never returned the notes and equipment they had taken from her, and the fat check they had left behind could not replace more than a decade's worth of data. Jane refused to let that stop her--she had  _seen_ an Einstein-Rosen Bridge with her own eyes--but without any data to prove her claims... colleagues, grants, scientific publications--they had nearly laughed her out of academia.

Matters only turned around after the Battle of New York. A wormhole had materialized before the eyes of millions, complete with aliens pouring out, and suddenly Jane was the leading researcher in a brand new field of science. Money and job offers came pouring in. 

So she had every reason to throw Roberston out when he walked into her office six weeks ago, especially after what had happened to Eric. But Robertson had brought a folder with impossible contents with him. Bridging was still in its infancy; there were still millions of calculations to make, millions of tests to run, before they could even begin to draw up the schematics for a wormhole generator. Jane knew this--Jane had practically invented the damn field--but that folder had held answers to half her questions, along with quite a few that she hadn't known to ask.

There was an alien scientist on Earth. There was an alien scientist building an Einstein-Rosen bridge for SHIELD, but for some reason, they still wanted Jane's input. She couldn't afford to pass up that chance.  
  
The two women entered a complex of office buildings surrounded by fortifications. It seemed small for the work they intended, especially compared to the massive fortress that Eric had once described to her. Jane unfolded the map Robertson had given her and compared it to her surroundings. "You're at the one in the middle," Darcy said, jabbing at the map. "I'm in a different building. So...this is it."  
  
They exchanged nervous grins, the type of grimace unique to people who had knowingly gotten themselves into something way over their heads. Jane squeezed Darcy's shoulder. "Hey. It doesn't matter how you got here. You'll knock 'em dead."  
  
Darcy laughed. "Knock off the mom impression, Jane." They parted, but after a few steps she turned and called, "And tell me everything about your new space alien dude tonight!"  
  
"I don't even know if he's a dude!" Jane yelled back.  
  
"Dr. Foster, would you mind _not_ shouting classified information in public?" Agent Robertson murmured, materializing behind her.  
  
Jane jumped a foot in the air. "How do you do that?"  
  
"Practice." He gestured toward the appropriate building. "Would you follow me? I'm here to give you your orientation."

Robertson led her to a small and nondescript building. Jane frowned at it as they went inside--it seemed more like an office building than a scientific installation. Sure enough, they passed through a standard office lobby into a standard office hallway lined with standard office doors. Jane opened her mouth to ask the obvious when Robertson opened a broom closet and typed a code into the keypad hidden on its walls. The back of the closet slid open to reveal a stairway.  
  
"Tight security," Jane commented, as they squeezed through the closet.  
  
Did Robertson's face tighten? "Most of the facility is located underground. I'm afraid you won't be seeing much daylight, Dr. Foster, though we have a UV room in the relaxation section."  
  
"Relaxation section? How big is the complex? Hold on, you don't expect me to live here, do you?"  
  
"We do have a residential section, but you're cleared to live off-base, at least for now. As the project progresses, SHIELD may request that you move to the complex, but I don't expect that to happen any time soon." He flashed her one of those pretty fake smiles.  
  
"Move to the--are you nuts? I don't recall seeing that provision in any of the fine print on the contracts!"  
  
"Dr. Foster, I hardly need tell you that we're playing with fire here." Jane stopped in shock. "Is there a problem?"  
  
"No, but--" Jane shook her head to clear it. "Of course I know the danger." The multiverse, in her experience, held both great and terrible things. She could still remember the wonder of the Bifrost and the heat of the fire spewed by the metal monster that had stormed Puente Antigua. "I never thought I'd hear one of you guys admit it up front."  
  
This time, she could definitely see the tightness in Robertson's smile. "You're the project head, Dr. Foster. You _need_ to know everything to do your job."  
  
He was worried, Jane realized. This project wasn't some attempt to establish a permanent connection to Asgard, as she had assumed. Something terrible had happened. "Have we been invaded by aliens? Again, I mean." There hadn't been anything on the news, but it was possible that SHIELD had covered up a small incursion.  
  
"Not exactly. Come to my office, Dr. Foster, I'll explain everything."  
  
She did, and he did. A full two hours passed as he told her the full story, passing her yet another file filled with photos, reports, and analysis. Numbness descended upon Jane as she paged through, Robertson droning in the background. No response from Asgard. The Tesseract on Earth, and _no response from Asgard_. Yes, she could understand why SHIELD was panicked. Then she reached the hospital pictures and the psychiatric profiles and had to put the file down.  
  
"Dr. Foster?"  
  
"I didn't need to see that. Loki's medical records, I don't need to know the details." She swallowed the nausea. "So. I'm supposed to work with this monster?"  
  
Robertson grimaced. "He's the only Asgardian scientist we've got. We're working under the assumption that he has an ulterior motive, but we can't take the chance that he's lying about this 'Thanos' warlord. Potentially we have very little time to prepare for a full-scale invasion, so we need his input." He leaned in. "That's where you come in. Loki might lie, but the science will not. We have confidence that you'll be able to use that input to create a workable bridge."  
  
A vaguely insulting statement, but she could see where he was coming from. Thor had known more about the structure of the multiverse, and he was no scientist.  
  
Had been. Had been no scientist.  
  
No, he could still be alive, right? Loki could be lying.  
  
No response from Asgard.  
  
Jane sat back and looked Robertson in the eye. "So when do I get to meet Loki? I figure I'd better get to know him if we're going to work together."  
  
If he had noticed the tremor in her voice, he gave no sign. Robertson stood up. "That's the next stop on the tour, Dr. Foster."

* * *

 

Hard metal. Jane rapped her knuckles against the wall and listened to the reverberations. "Would you please stop that," Robertson said, as he bent to let the optical scanner read his eye.  
  
"Sorry." The walls would be several inches thick, Jane guessed, probably with a cement filling or something. She wasn't familiar with prison architecture. Despite its apparent invulnerability, she couldn't help but wonder if the wall could stand up to a determined Loki. Thor had been dangerous without his powers; with them, he was a literal force of nature. She examined the monitors embedded in the wall next to the oversized lock as Robertson entered a long code into the keypad beneath the scanner. Multiple perspectives of the same white room, some focused on a man reading a book on a bed.  
  
They had to go through several more layers of locks before the final set of doors slid open to reveal Loki standing right behind it. Jane did not quite jump. "Please, come in."  
  
He was very tall and very handsome, but was different from Thor in every other way. Where Thor was broad, Loki was slim; where Thor was gold, Loki was dark; where Thor was all smiles, Loki was expressionless. Jane blinked, trying to connect the man in front of her with the face she had seen on the TV screen. But with his hair short and in department store clothes, Loki looked surprisingly normal. The only sign of his origins were a pair of tight-fitting bracelets, inscribed with runes.  
  
Loki ushered them into the cell as if they were his house guests, rather than captors. It was a spacious room, with everything a person might need: bed, dresser, desk, chair, computer (really?) and bookshelves filled with volumes. A small, walled-off section hid what she presumed to be a bathroom. And cameras everywhere, capturing every conceivable angle. Darcy would make an NSA joke, but there was nothing, absolutely _nothing_ , funny about this situation. Jane stuck her hand out. "Jane Foster. I'm the head for the Einstein-Rosen Bridge Project."  
  
" _The_ Jane Foster?" Loki asked.  
  
Oh God. Oh God, he knew who she was. "You've heard of me," she said, voice not quite cracking.  
  
"I've read your work," Loki explained, waving at the bookshelves. "The Midgardian approach to science differs from that of Asgard, so I thought I should familiarize myself with your methods."  
  
Oh. Yes, that made sense. "I...see." Stay professional. She had to stay professional. "That's good to know. So. You're the top adviser to this project." He nodded. "Look, I know transdimensional physics must seem elementary to--to an Asgardian like you. The field was only invented about six years ago."  
  
"When Thor came to Earth." Loki padded over to the desk, gesturing for Jane to follow. "Going by the studies I've read, you're the only scientist working in the field. I am surprised, actually; there have been multiple interdimensional events in the past ten years."  
  
"Yes. Um. The Puente Antigua incident was covered up by SHIELD." Was this really happening? Was she really having a calm conversation about Puente Antigua with _freaking Loki_? "Most scientists took the Battle of New York as, uh, proof for the existence of wormholes--and, uh, alien life--but transdimensional travel is still considered unproven."

Loki clicked his tongue. "Idiots. It's the same field." He unfolded a large piece of paper, revealing a large diagram that resembled the map of the Nine Realms that Thor had once drawn for her. "The Nine Realms are naturally connected by paths conveying matter and energy back and forth. Natural transference occurs on the sub-atomic level, so it's impossible to observe without the proper equipment." Was there condescension in his voice? "The ancients called these paths the World Tree--Yggdrasil. I find a better comparison to be the circulation system. There are major arteries--" He pointed to the lines drawn between the different realms. "--They run through all the universes and separate into smaller and smaller connections. In order to bridge, we need to tap into the arteries." He folded up the diagram, opened one of the desk drawers and pulled out a file. "I've written down a few preliminary ideas, but to be honest, I only know a little about the mechanics of the Bifrost--enough to activate it, but not to build it. We're going to have to reinvent the bridge."  
  
"Bullshit," Jane snapped, hands on hips. "You built a wormhole in New York. 'Same field,' right?"  
  
"I didn't build it," Loki said. "Selvig did. He still could, if he wanted to."  
  
He wasn't talking to her, but to Robertson. Jane spun to look at the agent. "Did you--did you try to recruit _Eric_?"  
  
Robertson held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Dr. Selvig made it clear he didn't want to be involved in this project. We haven't contacted him since."  
  
Jane turned around to glare at Loki. "What did you do to Eric? How did he know to build that bridge?" Her voice shook with anger.  
  
Loki blinked. "You were acquainted."  
  
"He was my friend!"  
  
And Robertson was right behind her, hand on her shoulder. "Dr. Foster, perhaps we should go."  
  
Jane shook it off. "I want an answer, Loki. What did you do to Eric? Is it the reason why he's--why he's--" She stopped, unable to vocalize Eric's condition, not to this man.  
  
Loki sighed, resigned. "I exposed him to the Tesseract. It inserted the wormhole data into his mind."  
  
Jane punched him, and then Robertson seized her arm and ushered her out the door.


End file.
